


If You Can't Handle The Heat, Get Out of The Volcano

by vanilleae



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: F/F, Team Galactic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 18:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16749631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanilleae/pseuds/vanilleae
Summary: Lesbians on Stark Mountain havin a great time. What else can I say!





	If You Can't Handle The Heat, Get Out of The Volcano

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first proper fic and I wrote it bc I love villainous nerdy lesbians and also my friend (@lythalia) dared me to (thank u emmy for making me do this and also giving me the title). Pokemon pearl/diamond/platinum is my fave installment but I don't remember much from the team galactic/plot area of the game, so if there's any inconsistencies with canon thats probably why. Thank u if you read this xoxo

“Why are we even up here anyways?” Mars grumbles to Jupiter under her breath. 

It’s a reasonable question. Stark Mountain is like a sauna - packed densely with uncomfortable heat. The ground’s rugged, uneven, charcoal black rock surface is easy to trip on. Dark pillars, stalactites and stalagmites, are littered around the internal labyrinth of the mountain, reaching out like the chitinous legs of an ariados. Smells of sulphur and specks of ash float around in clouds, suffocating. Massive, hulking boulders block the path every two steps. Jupiter’s skuntank meanders alongside them, using rock smash to blast the boulders to flying chunks of stone. 

Jupiter and Mars take cover behind a particularly thick stalagmite when the skuntank smashes what seems like the billionth boulder. It cracks and crumbles effortlessly. They stand and step back onto the cleared path, Mars kicking rocks in the petty way a child would when throwing a tantrum. 

“The old man wants the Magma Stone.” Jupiter murmurs, quiet so as not to let Charon - who’s trailing behind them, scribbling something in a tattered notebook- hear. 

“I know about the stupid stone! I mean why are we, specifically, up here? Why us? We’re commanders and this is grunt work.” Mars spits, voice cracking as she tries to maintain a whisper. The stench of this place, along with the naturally heinous scent of Jupiter’s skuntank, is making her gag. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Jupiter’s purple-painted lips curl up in disgust. So she thinks this mixing pot of gross smells is nasty too… 

Jupiter sneers at Mars, turning on her heel, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re equal in value to a grunt.” She grasps Mars’ cheeks with a gloved hand and looks down at her. Eyes full of pity. Mars splutters, tries to think of some witty comeback, but the sharpness in Jupiter’s eyes makes her fall short of any snarky remark. She bats Jupiter’s hand away, blushing. She tells herself it’s just the horrible heat of the mountain that’s getting to her. Her increased heart rate is the fault of the mountain’s steep incline. 

They continue to trudge through the winding, cooled-lava pathways, heading towards the molten center of the structure. No words are exchanged between them for a long period. The puffs of hot steam being ejected out of the ground have made Mars’ hair frizz up, and she tries to slick it back down using the tiny container of hair product she keeps concealed in her boot. No luck, though. The heat returns it to a curly, frizzy state within minutes. Arceus, she must look awful right now… disheveled hair, drenched in sweat, bright red… maybe Jupiter was right about her being of grunt status. 

Jupiter must be a true commander. Everything about her has remained perfect during this awful excursion. How is she not tripping over in those heels? Her white boots are perfectly pearlescent and shiny despite having been surrounded by volcanic ash for the past hour. And her plum colored hair is still voluminous and not fried whatsoever. It’s not fair. 

That missing pant leg thing that’s part of Jupiter’s jumpsuit (who designed her outfit? It’s. Distracting. Her legs look so muscular and lean and strong) is probably keeping her cool. Mars, on the other hand, is certain she’s been permanently glued into her black leggings with sweat. Cyrus said these outfits were made out of some kind of invincible material that could withstand extreme heat and cold. Apparently Team Galactic’s top scientists had tested it and worked on it for months. Sure, it functions decently in Sinnoh’s colder climates, but it definitely doesn’t cope well with these boiling hot temperatures. She made sure to turn on the special cooling mechanism attached to the back of her suit made for environments such as this, but it isn’t doing her much good. 

Maybe Cyrus really does see her as a grunt. Maybe he specifically gave her a faulty suit so that she’d be cooked alive in this dumb place. She’ll start to melt and bubble like the magma here, all while Jupiter watches with a scornful eye, body temperature being flawlessly moderated by her outrageous outfit made of material fit for a true commander. 

Mars’ chest feels tight all of a sudden. She peers down at the golden Team Galactic insignia on the crest of her suit. It shrinks and expands rapidly with her sharp breaths in and out. Her head feels like it’s full of feathers. All soft and light.

“Mars, I think we’re getting close. The radar keeps going off.” Jupiter breaks the silence, glancing up from the slim, glowing panel in her palm, “You look atrocious. You’re seriously tired from an hour of slow walking?” 

Yes, more cruel words from Jupiter are exactly what Mars needs right now. She straightens her back and puffs up her chest, holding back a cough.

“I’ll have you know I’m doing just fine. You’re the one who looks atrocious.” Mars chokes out, putting on the meanest face she can muster. Jupiter only rolls her eyes. 

Jupiter walks past her, shoving her out of the way and looking around the narrow tunnel they’ve been travelling through, “Great, now we’ve lost Charon. I swear, you two are both so hopeless.”

Mars only has a few brief moments to be thankful for Charon getting lost, before she’s overcome by the feeling of weightlessness, then the feeling of crashing onto the steaming hot, earthy floor. The pain is dulled somehow, but she still hisses at the sensation of her hands being seared by the scorching hot pebbles under her gloves. She hears Jupiter’s voice, but it’s all garbled and faint, like she's hearing it from underneath a body of water. Nice, cold, refreshing water would be nice right now, she thinks, before her vision fades to black. 

\---

Mars is surrounded by darkness and faintly pulsating waves of red glow, from a nearby patch of magma, she assumes. Strangely, there’s no longer any feeling of discomfort. She’s no longer pouring sweat, lightheaded, or frizzy-haired. Are they out of Stark Mountain? No, she can feel mud and ash around her. Her suit is working correctly now, she’s not overheating anymore. There’s almost a feeling of cold. Of frost. Like she’s been sitting in an air conditioned room for a while. And there’s pressure around her face… that’s peculiar. She looks up and -- oh. Jupiter is gazing down at her. Her hands are cupped around Mars’ face. Her slender fingers are cool to the touch. Must be the specialized fabric. The sight of Jupiter makes her head grow hazy. 

“Don’t pass out on me again.” Jupiter mumbles, lightly tapping Mars on the cheek. Mars scrambles to sit upright, pushing Jupiter’s hands away and cradling her face with a sort of delicacy, as though she’d been gruesomely injured or stained by Jupiter’s touch. 

“Why are you--? What’s going on? Where’s the stupid Magma Stone?” Mars exclaims, looking around frantically. Charon is nowhere to be seen. Maybe Jupiter is planning on leaving her here to die, with no digital map or escape ropes. Jupiter thinks she’s worthless. Pathetic. Useless. Of course she’s going to be left here to die. 

“We don’t have the ‘stupid’ Magma Stone yet. You passed out because the solar panel in your suit wasn’t charged. You were basically being boiled alive. Charon went on ahead.” Jupiter explains, calm and slow, quelling Mars’ panic. She reaches a hand for the panel on her back, engraved with the Team Galactic insignia. She traces the outline of the of the engraving, staring pensively at Jupiter, mulling over the quick summary given to her. 

Her suit is working now, but they’re so deep inside these caverns there’s no way Jupiter could’ve recharged the panel. 

“I gave you some of the energy from mine. I had enough to share between us.” says Jupiter. 

That’s. Not like her at all. Sharing? No. Not with Mars. She hates Mars. 

“T-Thank you?” Mars says, quietly, unsure of herself. Jupiter probably just wants Mars to owe her something. Yeah, that’s it. It’s not possible for her to be showing genuine kindness. 

“It’s fine.” Jupiter says, voice low with exhaustion. 

This incident is an anomaly, Mars reassures herself. Things are easier if Jupiter hates her anyways. She probably wouldn’t survive being liked by Jupiter. Or worse, loved by Jupiter. That would be… overwhelming.

Mars goes to stand, but she’s stopped when Jupiter softly places a hand under her chin, tilting her head up. 

“Listen here,” Jupiter says, hushed, glancing around the room. Her eyes glow in the dim lighting, “If Charon fucks this one up, I’m leaving Team Galactic. And I want you to come with me. We deserve a better leader than him.” 

Who is we? Why does she suddenly care about what Mars does? This must all be a steamy volcano-induced fever dream. She can’t bring herself to think of a reply when Jupiter is holding her in place like this. She wants to pull her eyes away from Jupiter’s tough glare and lilac lips but she just can’t. Does Jupiter know how persuasive she is right now? Because Mars feels like she would do anything for this woman. Who she hates. Yes. She hates Jupiter. But… she did kind of save Mars’ life earlier so… 

No! This is absurd. If Mars leaves Team Galactic, she’s doing it for herself and not for -- oh wow. Jupiter is twirling a lock of Mars’ hair around her finger. 

“O-of course. I was planning on ditching anyways.” Mars lies. She would’ve stayed as long as Jupiter did. A life without their rivalry would be so boring, “Charon is a dim-witted, ugly, old loser.” 

That mean, petty comment somehow gets a chuckle out of Jupiter. Mars feels her heart light up with some sort of unnatural feeling. She holds her breath as Jupiter leans in and whispers in her ear, 

“Then we have an agreement.”


End file.
